


Barefoot Days

by tattooeddevil



Series: Barefoot Days [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooeddevil/pseuds/tattooeddevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the summer of 1986 and Sammy and Dean spend their first summer with their Uncle Bobby. It’s hot, humid and awkward. Bobby is determined to give them a normal kid’s summer though, whatever it takes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barefoot Days

Bobby stands to the side and watches as John packs up the car. John’s boys look on with sad faces and Bobby feels bad for them as Dean takes Sammy’s hand in his and smiles at his little brother reassuringly. Don’t worry, Sammy, I’m not leaving. Sammy just frowns though, his face thoughtful and his eyebrows drawn together. Thirty seconds later, Sammy tears his hand from Dean and runs over to his father to pull on his jeans leg.

“Can I come, Daddy?”

John bends down to ruffle his son’s hair with an apologetic smile.

“I’m afraid not, buddy. Daddy’s gotta do this alone. You’re gonna stay with your uncle Bobby.”

Sam’s bottom lips starts to quiver a little and his eyes grow bigger, tears gathering in their corner. Bobby knows John hates this part of the hunt - saying goodbye to his sons for however long the hunt will take - more than anything, even if this time he can leave his kids with someone they already know and John trusts. Dean takes it like the soldier John is raising him to be, even if John knows Dean wants nothing more than for him to stay with them. Sam though, Sam wears his emotions on his sleeve like any other three year old and never fails to make John feel that much more guilty about leaving.

A fat tear dribbles down Sam’s dirty cheek. John lifts his youngest son up in his arms and cuddles him close for a second. Sam lets him, not at the point of anger yet, but Bobby knows it’s not gonna be long before Sam starts kicking his legs to get away from his father in an angry huff. John presses a kiss to Sam’s temple and whispers another apology.

“I’m sorry, Sammy. It’s only a few weeks, I promise. You can come when you’re grown up, okay? You can come with me and fix people’s cars with me.”

He’s barely got the words out before Sam’s mood slides from sadness to anger and he’s got a squirming boy in his arms.

“No! I want to go now, Daddy! Now!”

John puts Sam on the ground with a chuckle, careful not to let Sam hear him laughing. Sam stomps off, kicks John’s duffle that’s still sitting in the dust of the yard and the car tire when he passes them and flops down on the bottom step of Bobby’s porch with his chin in his hands; no one’s better at sulking than Sammy.

John turns to Dean next, knowing Sam’ll come around when he’s about to get in the car, and looks at his oldest son sternly. Dean’s stance changes minutely, but enough for Bobby to see; slightly taller and desperate for his father’s approval.

“You look after your brother, okay? Make sure he doesn’t get hurt. You know what to do, Dean?”

Dean nods solemnly.

“Yes sir. Look out for Sammy, make sure he doesn’t get hurt.”

“And don’t give Uncle Bobby any trouble.”

“Yes, sir.”

John eases his expression a little at the perfect answers. Bobby shakes his head at the responsibility his father asks him to carry. Right there, Bobby decides to give the boys the best summer they ever had. No training, no monsters, no weapons and no military household. Nothing but regular snot-nosed little jerk’s fun and games.

“Good. Your uncle Bobby is in charge now. If you’re good, he might even let you play with Rumsfeld.”

Sam perks up at the mention of Bobby’s new guard dog. He got the puppy a few weeks ago and Sam’s been asking after it since he found out Bobby had it. Sammy seems torn between being excited about playing with Rumsfeld and still being mad at his father. For now, being mad wins and Sam slumps back in on himself when John ruffles Dean’s hair with a small smile. The introductions between boy and canine will have to be done later.

John grabs the last bag from the ground and tosses it in the back of the Impala. He opens the driver’s side door and sits down on the seat, his legs still sticking out of the car. Dean joins him at the door and John puts a heavy hand on Dean’s small shoulder.

“Remember, take care of Sammy, okay Dean?”

Dean nods and Bobby resists sighing in disapproval. Seriously, just junk food, games and late nights for those boys the next few weeks. He watches as John has his oldest son promise to look out for himself and his little brother again before turning the key to start the car. Just like John knew it would, the action jolts Sammy into motion, all previous anger at his Dad forgotten in favor of his impending departure.

Sam jumps up and runs full speed to throw himself into his father’s waiting arms. John hugs him tight and whispers more apologies in his ear. Bobby sighs, knowing he’ll be stuck with the sad little boy the coming weeks, not John. He can apologize all he wants, but he’s still leaving and Sammy still doesn’t understand why he has to spend his summer with a man he hasn’t spent more than a day with previously. Sam clings to his father until John pries his arms from around his neck and sets him down on the ground. Sam steps back and takes Dean already waiting hand, almost slinking back from John into Dean’s side. Dean simply makes room for his little brother, as always.

John nods at his sons and swings his legs in the car. He throws them one last smile before making a serious face at Sam.

“Now Sammy, you know you shouldn’t have kicked the bag and the car, right?”

Sam looks at his feet and nods.

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good. Now go to Bobby and help him wave me off.”

Bobby rolls his eyes at that; he’s not an invalid, but if it helps the boys say goodbye to their father easier, he’s more than happy to play along. For now. Dean and Sam amble over to him, both faces drawn and sad, and sidle up next to him to watch John close the door and drive down the yard to the front gate. John sticks his hand out the window and waves a little, both boys and Bobby mirroring the gesture. When John’s turned the corner and is out of sight, the first thing Sam does is turn to his big brother with pleading eyes.

“Dean? When will Dad be back?”

Bobby sighs. When John comes back, he better have mastered the art of dodging buckshot.

******

“Thank you, Mr. Singer, for fixing Miss Julie.”

Bobby smiles at old Mrs. Johnson with a nod.

“Don’t mention it, Mrs. Johnson, it was my pleasure.”

The old woman shakes his hand and Bobby can feel the five dollar bill she slips him. She always does this and he always pretends he doesn’t notice, it works. He helps her get in her car and waves her off before closing the salvage yard gate; it’s near closing time anyway. When his eye catches Dean standing on the porch of the house, watching them with a small frown on his face, Bobby gestures for the little boy to come over. When he reaches him, he hands Dean the bill and ruffles his hair.

“Go ask your brother if he wants some ice cream, okay? We’ll go to town and get some.”

Dean’s eyes light up and the frown changes into a brilliant smile. Dean takes off in a sprint, his excited words floating across the yard.

“Thanks Uncle Bobby! Daddy never lets us have ice cream! Sammy!”

Bobby shakes his head, cursing John again for treating his sons like little soldiers instead of the little brats they are. Ice cream should be a regular thing for them, along with playtime and horsing around. Dean sprints to his little brother sitting on the steps of the porch and delivers the good news. He can’t hear what Sam says, but it makes Dean squat down to his level and talk to him. Moments later, Sam frowns but nods. Dean stands up, takes Sam’s hand and together they come walking up to Bobby.

“Sammy likes chocolate, uncle Bobby.”

“Chocolate it is.”

Kops Ice Cream and Treats is a small, family owned ice cream shop with handmade ice cream in two dozen flavors. Bobby lets the boys order and pay for their own ice cream, Dean hefting Sam up so he can look over the counter. Bobby points them to a table at the window, Dean letting Sam slide in before sitting down next to him. Bobby takes the seat opposite the little boys and watches how Sam scoots into Dean’s side and rests his eyes on the table top. He bites back a slightly sad sigh.

When the waitress brings their ice creams, Bobby hands the boys a spoon, but Sammy puts his down next to his bowl. He leans into Dean and whispers, “Dad says we’re not allowed to have ice cream, Dean.”

Dean glances at Bobby, clearly ready to dig in but torn between disobeying his absent father or showing Sam that it’s okay to do so because Bobby said it was. Bobby smiles.

“Well, your father left me in charge and I say you can have ice cream.”

Sammy’s doubtful eyes lift to meet Bobby’s and for a second Bobby thinks he’s gonna throw a tantrum. Instead, Sammy glances at Dean and then nods solemnly before picking up his spoon to starting to eat. Both Dean and Bobby stare at Sammy for a few moments, unsure of the situation, but when it seems like Sam’s just gonna eat without further complaint or objection, they both start scooping up their ice cream too.

They finish their ice creams in silence, Dean keeping a close eye on Sammy and Bobby watching both boys. He racks his brain trying to come up with something for them to do other than hang out at the house all day, but Sioux Falls isn’t much of a town and there’s not much to do with two small boys their ages. There’s museums, sure, but what three year old would really appreciate being dragged to a stuffy, dull museum where he can’t even touch anything? No, no museums.

It is Dean that gives him the idea he needs. Sammy announces he needs to use the toilet and Dean takes him by the hand to take him. Dean waits outside the door, leafing through the tourist pamphlets laid out. When Sam comes out of the bathroom and the boys return to the table, Dean is still holding a leaflet about the Big Sioux River Falls. Perfect. Bobby pockets the leaflet and herds the boys to the car. On their way back to the house, he proposes his plan.

“Okay boys, do you know if your Daddy packed you swimming trunks?”

Two questioning gazes meet his from the backseat.

“You know, swimming gear?”

Dean shakes his head hesitantly.

“No, Uncle Bobby. We don’t have any swim trunks.”

Of course they don’t, because who needs swim gear when you’re hunters? John’s an idiot.

“Okay, we’ll buy you some. What do you think of going swimming tomorrow? The river is close-by and it has really big waterfalls.”

Dean’s eyes light up with excitement and even Sammy looks interested. He’s not entirely sure where to buy little boy’s swim trunks, and Sam probably needs swimming aids, but he’ll manage. Anything to get those boys to have fun and not worry about their dad leaving.

“Really, Uncle Bobby? We can go swimming?”

“We sure can. I’ll close the yard for a day and we’ll go out to the waterfalls. Your Daddy taught you how to swim?”

“Yeah. Sammy can’t swim really well yet, but I can help him.”

Bobby purposely turns his gaze to Sammy, trying to draw him into the conversation, get excited about the prospect of swimming and horsing around for a day.

‘We’ll both help you, Sam, don’t you worry. We’re gonna have a lot of fun, I promise.”

Sam merely nods. Bobby watches Sam scoot closer to Dean and whisper to him softly.

“You’ll stay with me, right Dean? Stay with me in the water?”

Dean smiles at his little brother widely.

“Of course, Sammy! It’s gonna be fun, you’ll see.”

When they get home, Dean sets Sam down at the kitchen table to practice reading until dinnertime. Bobby makes them chili with sweet corn and bread that both boys chow down in silence. Even Dean seems a little sadder than he did earlier that day. At eight, Bobby calls bedtime. Dean takes Sam upstairs and Bobby follows them when he hears the water in the bathroom shut off. Bobby watches Dean tuck Sam into bed and then climb into his own bed.

“Did you brush your teeth?”

Dean rolls his eyes as if Bobby’s stupid.

“Yes, uncle Bobby. We brushed our teeth, washed our hands and our face.”

Bobby smiles from the doorway.

“Good. Sleep tight, boys.”

He’s halfway out the door when he hears Dean’s soft voice.

“Uncle Bobby?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Thanks for the ice cream.”

Bobby smiles.

“Don’t mention it. Now get some sleep, it’s gonna be a busy day tomorrow.”

Bobby flips the light off and heads downstairs to settle on his rickety chair on the porch. It’s still hot out, the July weather not letting up at night at all. It’s humid, muggy and warm and Bobby feels sticky with sweat and dirt and gravel. He can’t help but think of Sam and Dean; both boys seemed a little sad all day, but Sammy just breaks his heart. The 3 year old misses his father so much it’s downright pathetic to see. He spent the day sitting on the porch, just throwing pebbles and petting Rumsfeld. It had been too hot for the puppy to really run around and play, but it hadn’t looked like Sam wanted to play anyway.

Sam ate when Dean prompted him to, he drank when Dean handed him a glass, but he took nothing from Bobby. Whenever Bobby asked him something, he would look to Dean for an answer or permission. He wouldn’t outright reject Bobby, but he would just pretend he didn’t hear. Dean would prod him a little and he’d give a nod or a shake of his head, but Sam has yet to speak to Bobby. Dean had an easy enough time adjusting to Bobby being the one in charge, but Sam didn’t understand the concept of a guardian and still clung to his father.

He hadn’t smiled all day.

Sam worries him; the way he told Dean they weren’t allowed to have ice cream, as if he would be a big disappointment to John if he had one little bowl of ice cream. Then again, if John knew, he probably would have scolded his son for it, no matter the fact he’s only three. Boys that little shouldn’t be afraid of disappointing their father; they should be excited at the prospect of fun and games and ice cream and burgers and late nights. The weight on Sam’s shoulders shouldn’t have been put there and Bobby decides he’s gonna do everything to lift it from both boys.

******

The next day starts early, the neighborhood’s wild rooster announcing daylight a little after six. Sam is up immediately, Bobby can hear him trying to rouse Dean in the other room. He listens to Dean mumbling something about freaky little brothers and early mornings in return and smiles. Not a morning person then.

By the time the boys make it downstairs, Bobby’s got breakfast ready and waiting.

“Pancakes, toast and cereal. What do you want?”

Sam glances at Dean, who nods at his little brother. Sam fixes his eyes to the table top in silence, so it’s up to Dean to ask for breakfast for Sam.

“If you have some milk, Sammy would like cereal, uncle Bobby.”

Bobby merely smiles and pours the little boy’s cereal and milk in a bowl and sets it in front of him. Sam’s “thank you” is very, very quiet, but it’s there. Bobby can feel his cheeks hurt with how hard he’s smiling.

When breakfast is done, Bobby packs the leftovers for lunch, herds the boys and Rumsfeld to the car and gets them all into town for a quick shopping spree. It turns out there is a store in town that sells all kinds of swimming gear, including children’s trunks. Dean gets swim trunks with sharks on them and Sammy wants the Superman kind. Bobby grabs some swim aids and inflatable toys at the insistence of the shop assistant before setting out for the waterfalls.

The Big Sioux River Falls are just outside of town - hence the name of the town, Sioux Falls - and while there’s not really a commercial area where tourists come or locals hang out to swim, Bobby knows of a spot perfect for swimming with little kids. The current of the river is practically non-existent and they can still hear and see the falls in the distance. He spreads the blanket he brought before blowing up Sammy’s swim aids. Dean helps Sammy gets changed after he’s put on his own new trunks and then helps his little brother put on the protective gear so they can go in the water. Bobby changes too and puts the leash on Rumsfeld to make sure he doesn’t swim away too far.

The water is cold, but the two boys don’t seem fazed at all. Dean takes Sammy’s small hand and slowly but surely they wade into the water. Sam clutches Dean’s hand tightly, Bobby can hear his voice waver with nerves a little when he asks Dean to hold on. He stays close just in case, but everything goes without a hitch. Dean takes Sam up to his middle before grabbing both Sammy’s hands.

“Okay, now crouch down and let the water carry you.”

Sam’s face in anxious, but he does exactly what Dean tells him to. The swim aids help him stay afloat perfectly and within minutes, Dean is pulling a squealing Sammy along the water by his arms. It’s shallow and calm enough Dean can walk around without losing his footing and Bobby settles down on a rock in the river to watch the boys play. Rumsfeld splashes around him with happy yips and barks, trying to catch the water in his mouth.  
The sun isn’t too hot yet, it’s only ten am, and there’s no one else around. The silence is only pierced by Sammy’s giggles and it’s heaven to Bobby’s ears. He doesn’t care if Sam warms up to him or not, as long as Dean will continue to be able to make Sammy smile and laugh. John’s only been gone a few days, but Bobby was already inching towards drastic measures if Sam continued to be depressed and sad. He has no clue what those drastic measure would have been, he’s just glad he won’t have to resort to them.

When the boys have exhausted themselves enough, they come swimming back to the shore where Bobby has set up lunch for them.

“Pancakes and iced tea, boys.”

Dean whoops and stretches out on the blanket with his food, occupied for a few moments. Sam watches him with a pained expression before flapping his arm aid silently, hoping to attract Dean’s attention enough to get him to help take them off. He does it again with the same result. Nothing. Bobby shakes his head, Dean and his food, man.

“Hey Sammy?”

Sam turns his gaze to Bobby, the little frown between his eyes deepening. Bobby smiles reassuringly and holds out a hand.

“Why don’t you let me help you take those off, huh?”

Sam glances back at Dean, who is still munching away happily with Rumsfeld sitting next to him begging for scraps and affection. He looks back at Bobby and Bobby can practically see the wheels turning in the little boy’s head. It’s a stalemate, and it’s up to Sam to decide if he’s gonna break it or not.

It seems hours before Sam finally nods minutely and shuffles over to Bobby with one arm already stretched out. He stands as far away from Bobby as he can, but Bobby still feels like he won something. Something huge. He does his best not to make it into a big thing, that’ll scare Sam off immediately and instead helps Sam get out of the arm aids. He holds out a plate with a pancake and some fruit on it and to his amazement, Sam takes it and plops down to eat without hesitating.

It’s a good day.

After lunch, Dean takes Sam’s hand and Bobby takes Dean’s and together they walk up to the waterfalls to gaze at them in amazement. Well, the boys stare at it in awe and Bobby tells them about the waterfalls and how they came to be. Rumsfeld barks at the falling water, making Sammy giggle.

“Can I play with Rumsfeld, Dean?”

Dean glances at Bobby and Bobby nods. Rumsfeld is a boisterous little puppy, but somehow he calms down enough around Sam so not to harm him or knock him over or drag him away.

“Sure. Just not in the water, okay?”

Sam pouts.

“Why not? I can swim!”

Bobby steps in then, wanting to avoid a fight between the boys, or tears from Sammy.

“Why don’t we go back to the blanket and swim there, huh? It’s a little less wild and Rumsfeld can play with Sam in the water there.”

That seems to placate Sam. He smiles brilliantly at Dean, who nods at Bobby in thanks. Bobby hands Sam the leash to Rumsfeld before steering the whole group back to their spot down the bank. Dean puts on Sam’s swim aids and splashes into the water with Sam and the dog hot on his heels. It’s a big squeal and splash fest that Rumsfeld excitedly barks through, swimming and bouncing in mad laps around the boys. Bobby settles in on the blanket to catch up on some of his reading - a stuffy old Japanese book on ancient lore - and nurse a cool beer.

The boys and the puppy play in the water the entire afternoon, occasionally coming out for a drink or a snack, but Bobby doesn’t round them up to dry off and go home until the sun is setting and their skin is tight with a slight sunburn. Sam actually seems sad to leave, tugging at Dean’s sleeve to ask when they’ll come back to swim, and Bobby can’t help but feel on top of the world.

Things get even better after dinner. Dean helps Sam through his bedtime routine before doing the same for himself. Bobby waits at the door until both boys are in bed and then turns off the light. He switches on the night light that Sammy needs so he won’t get scared of the dark and whispers a soft “goodnight boys” into the room.

It’s Sammy’s voice that replies.

******

During the week, Bobby has to keep the salvage yard open - no matter how much he wanted to close it down and take the boys for another swim - and the boys have to keep themselves busy. The first few days are fine, with Dean chasing Sammy around the yard in a game of tag or both small boys peering over his shoulder when he’s fixing a car. They never whine or needle Bobby while he’s working and in turn Bobby tries to give them his undivided attention when he has the time to do so.

Breakfast, lunch and dinner steadily grow louder and chattier. Sammy seems to come out of his shell a little more every day and by the end of the first week, he answers when Bobby asks him something, though never without Dean around. Dean tries to stick to his little brother’s side and keep him out of Bobby’s way, but Sammy’s a curious boy and he wants to know everything.

“Dean, what does this do?”

“Dean, what’s that called?”

“Dean, can I play with the thing?”

“Dean, when can I drive?”

“Dean, can you drive?”

“Dean, can I have a big truck too?”

Bobby has no idea how Dean does it, but he never loses patience with Sam, even though the eight year old must be getting sick of the barrage of questions every day, all day. But Dean seems to not mind, he encourages it even and it is as if he knows just when Bobby has had enough of Sammy’s sharp questioning voice and leads him out of earshot.

Bobby rewards him by letting Dean “help” with the cars. He lets Dean hand him tools or talk to the customer while he finishes something up. Sometimes he lets Dean screw on a bolt or wipe down a window and Dean does it all with a huge radiant smile.

It’s Thursday when he’s tinkering with an old pickup truck and Dean’s been hovering all day, trying to see what he’s doing and how he’s doing it. There’s not really anything big to do on the car, but Dean’s been so eager to learn anything Bobby throws his way, he decides to let the boy get his hands on his first car.

“Hey Dean, wanna change the oil with me?”

Dean’s face lights up like Christmas tree and he nods so hard and fast Bobby’s afraid his head’ll come off. He quickly prepares before handing Dean the oil can and lifting him up so he can reach the opening. He steadies Dean’s hands with one of his own and together they pour the new oil into the car. Dean wobbles a little at the end, but he manages to not spill anything and he beams up at Bobby when Bobby praises him for it.

“I wanna be a mechanic when I grow up too, Uncle Bobby. Just like you!”

Bobby pats Dean in the head with a wide smile.

“That’s great, buddy.”

It’s not like he thinks about it every day, he’s given everything that happened with Karen a place and moved on, but sometimes he does sit and wonder what it would have been like if he had children of his own; a son to take over the business, to pass his knowledge on to. Dean’s exclamation makes him smile for two very different reasons at the same time; sadness that he’ll never have kids like Sammy and Dean and fondness for the little boy gazing at him with admiration.

“That’s really great.”

He busies himself with putting away his tools for the day so Dean won’t see the emotions on his face and lets Dean put the safer tools away before locking up the front gate, flipping the Open sign to Closed.

“That’s it for today. Let’s go see what your brother is up to.”

They find Sam right where they left him when the last customer came in; sitting at the table on the front porch overlooking the yard, drawing pictures on sheets of printer paper. Bobby had had to borrow the crayons from one of his neighbors, who had grandchildren, since he didn’t have anything of the sort in the house, but Sammy didn’t seem to mind. He was scribbling away happily, a large glass of iced tea next to him and Rumsfeld asleep at his feet.

Dean bounced over to his little brother.

“I got to help Uncle Bobby change the oil on a car!”

Sammy glanced up from his paper to Dean and Bobby was glad to find a big smile there. He was afraid Sam might feel left out, because he wasn’t allowed to help today, but apparently he was fine.

“Really? Woah.”

“Yeah, it was awesome. What did you draw?”

Bobby looks over Dean’s shoulder when Sammy hands him a few of his drawings and they leaf through them together. It’s mostly Sam with John, a few Sam with Dean and one big one of Rumsfeld. It makes him happy and sad at the same time. He thought Sammy was missing his dad maybe a little less, but apparently he was wrong.

“Great job, Sammy. Rumsfeld is really gonna love his picture.”

Dean’s cheeky grin makes Sam chuckle softly. His foot subconsciously seeks out the puppy’s back where he’s lying under the table to scratch a few toes through his fur. Bobby’s not sure what to make of the gesture, but he thinks he’s not far off is he guesses Sammy’s feeling a little neglected and denied attention. He decides the yard will be fine if it closes a few hours earlier during weekdays - barring any emergencies of course - so he and Dean can spend more time with the little boy. For now, he needs to start dinner though.

“Pasta okay with you boys?”

Dinner is eaten with Dean chattering almost non-stop about the cars and the customers and occasionally asking Bobby or Sam a question. Sam seems like he is engrossed by Dean’s antics, but when Dean asks Bobby if they can go swimming again the next day, he practically looks elated.

“Well, I have to keep the yard open for customers during the week and tomorrow is a weekday, but we can go on Sunday.”

Both boys’ faces fall immediately and Bobby feels like a tool. He hurries to placate them with something less exciting, but fun nonetheless. It would also keep Sam occupied while he worked.

“How about I go out tomorrow morning and buy one of those blow-up pools for in the yard instead?”

Frowns turn into smiles immediately.

“Okay, I’ll go out and get one tomorrow first thing.”

Dean smiles so wide Bobby can see his molars. Even Sammy’s cheeks are a little dimpled.

“Thanks, Uncle Bobby!”

“Don’t mention it, kid. Now eat your pasta, it’s almost movie time.”

“Movie time?”

Bobby waggles his eyebrows promisingly.

“Yes. A movie, sodas and all the popcorn you can eat.”

Dean whoops, making Bobby laugh.

“Can we watch The Karate Kid, Uncle Bobby?”

It’s one of the newer movies that John said would be okay to watch with them, so Bobby doesn’t object. He hasn’t seen it for himself, but he’s pretty sure John wouldn’t let his boys watch any movies exceeding their age.

“If Sammy wants to watch The Karate Kid too, that’s fine by me.”

Both Dean and Bobby turn to Sam, who fixes his gaze to the tabletop, but nods after a few seconds. Bobby smiles.

“The Karate Kid it is then!”

Bobby starts clearing the table under the noise of more whoops from Dean and even some soft, but no less excited chatter from Sam. The promise of a late bedtime if they get ready for bed now makes the boys fly upstairs to wash up, brush their teeth and change into their pajamas. By the time they make it down, Bobby’s got the movie queued up and the popcorn popping away in the kitchen.

He lets the boys pick their own sodas and sets the huge bowl of popcorn on the ground, between their makeshifts beds of blankets and pillows. He settles himself on the couch behind them and starts the movie. For 90 minutes, both boys are engrossed in the movie and even Bobby gets caught up a little. He’s a fan of Japanese fight movies, so what if it’s a kid’s movie?

It’s an hour past their bedtime when the movie is over and Sammy is fast asleep. Dean frowns at him until Bobby picks up on his thoughts.

“I’ll carry him up, you go ahead. He won’t notice.”

Dean thinks about it for a moment, but in the end he yawns widely and nods.

“Thanks, Uncle Bobby. He’s getting way too heavy for me.”

Bobby simply scoops Sammy up in his arms and carries him upstairs as fast and steadily as he can. They make it to the bedroom without Sam waking up, so Dean merely slides in bed and closes his eyes with a sigh. Bobby turns off the light and mumbles a goodnight to Dean.

“Uncle Bobby?”

“Yeah, Dean?”

“When is Dad coming back?”

It makes Bobby a little sad; Dean sound so small, so young and so miserable Bobby wants to do nothing more than lie and tell him his Dad will be back soon. The truth is, John said “a few weeks” which is very vague, and it’s only been a week so far. Dean knows this too, but that’s not what he wants to hear right now. He needs someone to tell him his father will be there when he wakes up, and not on some crazy demon hunt - or car fix, for all that Dean believes his father - for weeks to come.

He sighs; he can’t lie to the kid, but he can’t make promises he can’t keep either. He shuffles to Dean’s bed and ruffles his hair a little, hoping it will soothe the little boy somewhat.

“Soon, Dean. Soon.”

They both know what it means.

******

It’s not even seven by the time Bobby gets back with a blow up pool and some water toys for the boys the following morning. Both Sammy and Dean were still fast asleep when he left and they still are when he checks up on them. He sets up the pool and fills it with water as stealthily as he can, so it’ll be a surprise for the boys when they wake up later.

Later becomes eight thirty and the surprise is not lost on the two boys. Dean cheers loudly, early morning forgotten easily. Sammy’s face turns from surprise to awe to joy and even he makes a few happy noises. They both sprint to the pool to splash the water with their hands a little. Dean even looks like he might jump in right here, right now if it hadn’t been for Bobby hollering at him to wait.

“Change into your swim trunk first!”

Bobby manages to wrangle Dean into having breakfast too, before diving in, and Dean practically shoves two pancakes down Sammy’s throat in his excitement to get to the pool. Sammy follows at a more sedate pace, lingering behind Dean with his swim aids deflated in his hands. Despite his eagerness, Dean helps his little brother put on the aids and climb into the pool before jumping in himself. Sammy thanks him by splashing water in Dean’s face.

Bobby decides to make his escape before they hone in on him.

He can hear the chatter and giggles while he works and it’s a nice distraction. There’s a lot of splashing and hollering and laughing and screaming going on, but they’re all good sounds made by fun and joy. It even makes his customers smile, which in turn means he gets better business. The most important thing though, is that both boys are completely relaxed and aren’t worrying about training or duties or orders. They’re just horsing around and having fun, without a care in the world. Exactly what Bobby was going for.

Hungry stomachs interrupt swimming and work around one. Bobby meets the boys in the kitchen for sandwiches that they eat on the front porch. Big glasses of cold milk are chugged down quickly - brain freeze for Dean that both Sammy and Bobby laugh about - and then the boys are back in the pool. Bobby goes back to work with the widest smile he has ever sported.

At three thirty, Dean comes scurrying by with his nose almost to the ground. Bobby watches him for a moment, until his curiosity gets the best of him.

“Dean?”

Dean pulls his head back from where it was buried in one of Bobby’s storage closets brandishing some pipes and a plastic bottle.

“Yes, Uncle Bobby?”

“What are you doing, son?”

Dean glances at the things in his hands, a tiny blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Building something for Sammy?”

The hesitance is clear in Dean’s voice and face. He sounds like he expects to be told off, like he did something wrong, and Bobby decides to let it go until Dean is ready to show him whatever it is he’s building.

“Okay, Dean. What do you need?”

For a second, Dean’s eyes widen in surprise, but then he grins excitedly.

“I think I have everything for now, but can I come back and look for more things later?”

“Absolutely. Just be careful, okay? No touching the tools.”

Dean nods dutifully and turns to run back to Sammy. Bobby watches his little legs send him flying through the yard and shakes his head with a laugh. Dean’s little bowlegs are the funniest things.

The last customer of the day leaves at four thirty and Bobby decides to call it a day. He fires up the barbeque to cook them up some ribs and burgers, accompanied by coleslaw and corn. The boys eat like hungry wolves; it’s been a long, intense day and Sammy starts nodding off minutes after finishing his dinner. Dean looks between Bobby and Sammy the way he did last night after Sammy fell asleep during the movie. Bobby simply scoops Sammy up and gestures for Dean to lead the way upstairs.

In the bedroom, Bobby puts Sammy on the bed and tugs his swim trunks off as gently as he can. He changes the little boy into his pajamas before covering him with the thin blanket and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Goodnight, son.”

Two tired eyes meet his briefly before sliding shut again.

“Goodnight, Uncle Bobby. Love you.”

Bobby falls asleep with a big smile on his face and a lighter mind.

******

Bobby wakes the boys bright and very, very early on Saturday morning a week later. He’s got everything packed up and ready to go. He wraps both boys in their sheets, still in their pajamas, and carries them out to the car where they curl up on the back seat together with Rumsfeld and fall asleep again. By the time they wake up, it’s eight and they’re nearly at their destiny.

Confused faces greet him through his rearview mirror, accompanied by fluffy hair and squinty eyes. There’s no trepidation though and that makes him breathe a little easier. He was a little worried especially Sammy wouldn’t take kindly to being lifted from his bed at the crack of dawn, not knowing what was happening or where they were going. Bobby took a chance after Sammy’s words last night and the gamble worked out, as Sammy is now rubbing his eyes sleepily, fixing his gaze directly on Bobby instead of Dean.

“Where are we going, Uncle Bobby?”

It’s more than he spoke all together in the past week and a half.

“We’re going camping.”

Dean shoots up from his lying position, big eyes focusing excitedly on Bobby. Sammy mirrors his expression and Bobby barks out a laugh.

“Don’t tell me your Daddy never took you camping before.”

Two small heads shake in denial.

“Daddy said it was dangerous.”

Bobby resists the urge to sigh and roll his eyes; it’s not the boys’ fault John’s a moron sometimes.

“Nothing dangerous in South Dakota’s forests, so don’t worry.”

Neither boy looks more at ease, but they say nothing. Bobby takes it as a sign they trust him.

“We’re almost at the campsite. You boys wanna change into your clothes and help me put up the tents?”

It takes them half an hour to erect the tents Bobby borrowed off his neighbor – he happily sat through half an hour of instructions about camping with kids if it meant the boys got to have some outdoor fun -, inflate the air mattresses and unpack the sleeping bags and pillows. When Bobby tells them they have their own tent and Bobby will be sleeping in the second tent, both boys whoop loudly. They set up the rest of their camp before making their way through the woods to the river. Bobby knows these woods like the back of his hand - it’s only an hour from Sioux Falls and he’s spent a lot of time here hiking with Karen - and he wasn’t lying when he said nothing dangerous lived here. Some deer, raccoons and the occasional wild boar, but nothing that will intentionally harm humans. Bobby teaches the boys how not to aggravate the animals while they make the trek to the river.

They swim until it’s time for lunch and both boys are exhausted. Their bellies full of food, they collapse on the blanket Bobby spread out and fall asleep instantly. Bobby puts the book he was reading away and just looks at the boys. Once again, he wonders what it would have been like if he had had kids of his own. If Sam and Dean were his. Karen would have loved having children in the house; never a dull moment, always giggles and laughter around them. Sitting by their beds as they sleep, just like he’s sitting now.

He sighs. No use in getting maudlin now. He picks up Rumsfeld to set the puppy in his lap and stroke his fur until the dog falls asleep too. He’ll keep watch.

There’s more swimming in the afternoon, until dusk is approaching and they have to make their way back to their tents. They eat by an open fire and Bobby tells them a ghost story. He is aware of the irony in that, but Dean insists it is part of camping and Sammy nods, always following his big brother’s lead. He makes it an innocent one, but Dean’s no less mesmerized and Sammy still looks mildly worried at the darkening woods around them. A firm believer that hot chocolate with marshmallows cures everything, he pours the boys a cup before tucking them in their beds.

“Goodnight, boys. I’m just a few feet away if you need anything, okay?”

Two sets of tired, but happy eyes stare back at him through the dark.

“Thanks, Uncle Bobby. This is great.”

“Don’t mention it, Dean. Now get some sleep, there’s another day of fun tomorrow.”

He climbs into his own sleeping bag, listening to the whispers of Sam and Dean in the next tent. He can’t hear what they’re saying, but he doesn’t need to, to hear the excited cant of the words. He falls asleep seconds after the boys do, a softly snoring puppy against his side.

The next day is spent much the same. Swimming, playing in the woods and building a hut with piles of fallen branches and sticks they find. Bobby teaches them everything about the forest and camping and the animals and the boys make him join in their games until he’s breathless from running around and laughing. It’s the best weekend he’s had in years.

Not just the boys are sad to be heading home, Bobby casts more than one wistful glance back at the gates of the campsite when they drive away. It doesn’t take a lot of thinking to make his decision. Closing the yard one more day a week isn’t a big deal, not for those boys.

“Hey boys? How about we make this a weekly thing?”

Dean gasps.

“Like, we can go every weekend?”

“Like we can go every weekend.”

Dean whoops, making Bobby laugh. Sammy just looks confused, but when Dean explains, he cheers too.

“You’re the best, Uncle Bobby!”

******

So that’s what they do. Playing in the pool, drawing pictures, watching movies, playing hide and seek, walking with Rumsfeld - especially Sammy, the two have formed some kind of attached-at-the-hip bond - and “helping” Bobby with the cars. On the weekends they go camping; always at the same spot by the river. During the third weekend, Sammy had fallen asleep after lunch, slumped to the side against Bobby and Dean had smiled.

“He thinks you’re really cool, Uncle Bobby.”

Bobby had had to swallow past a lump in his throat.

“I think he’s really cool too. Both of you.”

Dean had hugged him, careful of sleeping Sammy, and had situated himself on Bobby’s other side to take a nap too. Bobby had known then those boys would always have a special place in his heart. Family doesn’t end with blood.

******

Hide and seek is always a fun game for the boys. Dean knows all the good hiding spots, but Sammy’s smaller and gets overlooked easier. It helps that Bobby tells him where those good hiding spots are so he either finds Dean or hides too well so Dean gives up and calls ‘uncle’. If Dean knows Bobby is helping Sammy, he doesn’t show it. He merely ruffles Sammy’s hair with a smile and a “well played, Sammy!”

Bobby knows he’s up to something when he does it after a third game where Sam finds Dean though and for a second, he thinks Dean is gonna prank Sammy. But then he comes tearing out of the corner of the yard he confiscated as his own for the past few weeks, proudly brandishing the thing he’s been working on all that time, stealing leftover scraps of metal and random redundant objects.

His self-built watergun, especially for Sammy.

It is an intricate design made from all kinds of pipes, water bottles, strings and duct tape. Dean holds out the self-made watergun to Sammy with a flourish and a wide, proud grin.

“I made this for you, Sammy. It’s a watergun. It works and everything!”

If Bobby hadn’t known it was physically impossible, he would have sworn Sammy’s eyes literally bugged out of his skull. As it is, Sam stares in unlimited awe at Dean and the watergun. His hands make aborted little moves, like he wants to reach out and grab, but he is afraid to do so. Dean notices too; his smile goes soft and he pushes the gun into Sammy’s tiny hands.

“Here, you can have it. Play with it.”

Sam nearly drops the gun in surprise, but manages to steady himself in time. Instead, he clutches the thing to his chest and continues to stare at Dean in silence. Bobby can almost hear the wheels turning in the little boy’s head, trying to figure out if he is allowed to play with something this cool, what will happen if he does - good or bad - and if Dean would be mad if he played with it first. It takes another nudge from Dean for Sammy to glance down at the precious cargo in his arms and break out a small smile.

“Woah, Dean, this is really cool.”

Dean’s face practically lights up at his little brother’s praise before turning to Bobby with a bashful smile.

“Thanks for letting me use all that stuff, Uncle Bobby.”

Bobby can’t resist the urge to ruffle Dean’s hair with a grin.

“Don’t mention it, kid. Just tell Sammy the parts were mine and maybe he’ll think I’m awesome too.”

It’s a joke, and he really doesn’t mean anything by it, but he swears he can see Dean’s eyes turn knowingly - and when did this eight year old get so smart anyway?

“He already thinks that, Uncle Bobby, he just misses Dad.”

“I know, kid, I know.”

What else is he supposed to say to something so sweet? He clears his throat - and hopefully the awkwardness in the air - before suggesting going and putting the watergun to use. The boys tear across the yard to where Rumsfeld is sitting next to the pool, as if he was waiting for them to finally join him and play with him. Bobby watches Dean explain to Sammy how to fill the water containers and then how to shoot the gun. It takes all of Sammy’s strength to pull the heavy trigger - Bobby makes a mental note to smear some lubricant on the parts - and send a splash of water right in the puppy’s face. Rumsfeld flails with a bark and both boys burst into giggles.

“Did you see that, Uncle Bobby? I shot Rum!”

Bobby laughs, the indignant yelps from his dog echoing through the yard.

“I did see, good aim!”

From there on it’s all splashes, shots of water and barks. Before long, both boys and puppy are knee deep in the pool, horsing around with big smiles on their faces. It’s everything Bobby hoped for when they first arrived at his doorstep. Of course that is also the moment the phone rings and everything goes belly up.

“Hello?”

“Bobby? It’s John.”

Bobby’s gaze automatically lands on the boys in the swimming pool. They’re laughing, their carefree faces beaming at each other, their shrill voices piercing the silence around the yard with chatter and giggles. They seem happy, at ease, not a responsibility in the world. He sighs.

“How far out are you?”

“About ten hours. I’ll stop for the night, pick them up tomorrow.”

“Yeah, alright. Bring them something.”

“Something?”

John sounds puzzled.

“Yes, something. A present. Anything.”

A confused silence follows and Bobby rolls his eyes.

“You’re an idjit. Bring Dean a Batman comic and get a stuffed dog for Sammy.”

“Ho-kay?”

John sounds skeptical, but he agrees so Bobby lets it go. It’s no use explaining why, he should just take what he can get for those boys.

“Good. So, tomorrow? What time? I’ll make sure they’re packed and ready to go.”

“Around seven?”

“Fine. Are you staying for dinner or should I just get them fed and ready to leave?”

“Just have them ready, I got a lead on a case that needs checking out. It’s just a one-night thing, so they can stay at the motel while I take care of it before we go on.”

Bobby bites back a sigh; of course John’s got a new job lined up. Hell, he probably has three lined up already and is planning to haul the boys off across America as soon as he arrives tomorrow. They’ll be lucky if he takes the time to sit down for dinner.

“Alright. Drive safe.”

They hang up and Bobby glances at the boys playing a few feet away. He decides not to tell them about their father’s arrival just yet, he wants them to be this happy and carefree for a few more moments. He watches Dean spray Sammy with the watergun and Sammy shrieks before hiding behind Rumsfeld. The puppy takes the brunt of the spray and starts snapping at the water, sending both boys into a giggle fit. It is actually funny and Bobby can’t help but join in the laughter. The dog barks wildly at all the ruckus around him before running over to Bobby and shaking off the excess water on him.

The boys holler with laughter, actually falling over in hysterics. He’s wet now anyway, so he doesn’t hesitate to pick up the puppy and set it in the pool before turning to the boys and picking them up, one under each arm. They both shriek and squeal, beg him to put them down through gasps of breath and peels of laughter, but he does the only thing he can do at this point.

He steps into the pool and splashes around until he’s well and truly soaked. The boys are squirming under his arms, giggling, trying to wiggle free. He doesn’t give in. Instead, he lowers himself down as best as he can with two wriggling kids in his arms, until he is lying in the pool, fully clothed with two boys and an excited puppy on top of him.

Dean whoops and prods Sammy to dunk buckets of water over Bobby’s head until he sputtering and spitting water back in Sammy’s face. Dean holds his arms down - his tiny little hands not even big enough to wrap around his wrists but he’ll play along - so he won’t go anywhere, sitting on his chest shaking with giggles. Rumsfeld is splashing around them, barking in excitement, soaking them all even more. Bobby almost feels angry with John for ruining it for him.

The boys tire half an hour later and settle down in the pool to play with Dean’s amazing watergun and Sammy’s toys. Bobby can’t help but study the gun for a few moments, impressed with the boy’s ingenuity and skill. What eight year old can build his own watergun, complete with reservoirs and trigger?

When Sammy starts to yawn, Bobby decides it’s time for bed. They all make their way upstairs to dry off and get into warm clothes. Dean helps Sammy get ready and Bobby watches them climb into their beds before sitting on Dean’s bed.

“I have some good news, boys.”

Two sets of curious eyes fix on him.

“Your Daddy is picking you up tomorrow.”

The response is not what he expected. Dean glances away with a sad sigh and Sammy pouts.

“But Uncle Bobby... Don’t you want us anymore?”

Sammy’s soft words literally break Bobby’s heart. He switches to Sam’s bed and puts a hand on his head with a reassuring smile.

“I will always want you here, kid. Always, you hear me?”

Sammy nods, but he doesn’t look very convinced.

“Your Daddy is coming back tomorrow and we’ll have dinner and then you get to go with him again. Aren’t you excited for that?”

“Yeah. But Daddy doesn’t have a pool. Or a puppy.”

Bobby chuckles. If that isn’t proof he did something right, then what is? Not a single trace of what-dad-says-we-do-without-question in sight.

“I know, kid. But he does have a really, really cool car and he might even bring presents.”

That perks the boys yup.

“Presents? Dad never brings presents!”

Bobby winks at them.

“I have insider information that says he is bringing some anyway.”

Dean whoops and Sammy copies him.

“Alright, now settle down. No presents if you don’t go to sleep right now.”

A chorus of two voices bids him goodnight instantly.

“Goodnight, boys.”

******

John turns up the next day around six thirty. Bobby greets him with a frown and a scoff.

“Did hell freeze over? You’re on time.”

John scowls at him.

“Shut it, Singer. Where are my boys?”

“Inside. They’re all packed and ready to go. Just... Let them have dinner here?”

He feels like a sap asking John to stay a little longer, but he just isn’t ready to let those boys go yet. They stuck to his side all day while he worked, as if they wanted to get in as much time as they could before they have to leave. He had loved every minute of it, fully aware of how much he’s gonna miss the little brats when they’re gone.

“Sure, why not. Are they in the kitchen?”

Bobby nods and steps aside to let John in. He waits outside, listening to the excited whoops coming from inside when they boys reunite with their Dad. There’s a lot of chatter - both boys wanting to tell their father everything they’ve been up to the past few weeks - and John’s low rumbling laugh. He takes his time making his way inside, wanting to give John some private time to connect with his sons.

When he gets to the kitchen, John is sitting at the table with Sammy on his knee and Dean standing at his side, showing his father the watergun he built.

“Wow, that is really good, Dean.”

Dean beams at his father’s compliment.

“I did it all by myself, too. Well, with Uncle Bobby’s stuff.”

Bobby mumbles something about it being okay, but John isn’t listening. He’s studying the gun, probably trying to figure out how his son built it and if he can use it for hunting. Figures, John can take the fun out of everything in favor of hunting. Bobby might be a little bitter.

He sets the table around the Winchesters and serves dinner a few minutes later. Chicken fajitas with corn and rice; as last meals go, it isn’t the cookout he planned for today, but he doubts John would have stayed that long. Dinner is eaten with two boys falling over each other for their father’s attention with John and Bobby sharing amused looks at the boys’ antics. They shut up faced with ice cream though, so Bobby scoops them an extra bowl just to keep the calm for a little while longer.

John calls it quits not long after dinner. He orders the boys to bring their bags to the car, Dean helping Sam to haul his out and into the car. John takes the time to thank Bobby for his help.

“I couldn’t have done this without you, Bobby.”

“It’s fine. Bring them over more often, I liked having them here.”

If John is surprised, he doesn’t show it.

“Sure thing. Anything happen I need to know about?”

“Nope, nothing. How’d you get on?”

“Dead end.”

“Sorry.”

And he is. Just because he doesn’t agree with the way John raises his boys doesn’t mean he can’t understand what John is doing and why. Catching whatever killed John’s wife Mary is important, he just wishes John would go about it differently sometimes.

Dean and Sammy come barging back in and John turns to them with a smile.

“Okay, you boys packed?

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now say goodbye to your uncle Bobby and thank him for his hospitality.”

Sammy wraps his arms around one of Bobby’s legs and presses his face in his thigh.

“Thank you, Uncle Bobby. I love you.”

Bobby bends down and plants a kiss on his head.

“I love you too, kid. Come back soon, okay?”

Dean pulls Bobby down and wraps his arms around his neck to hug him tightly.

“Thank you, uncle Bobby. I love you too.”

He hugs the little boys back and kisses his forehead softly.

“I love you too. You come back soon too, okay?”

He watches as John herds the boys outside to the car. Their chirpy voices carry back to the porch, where he sets himself down on the rickety chair with a sigh. Just as he is about to give in to his mood, Sam and Dean come tearing back across the yard, both wielding big sheets of paper.

“Uncle Bobby! We almost forgot!”

The two boys hold out their drawings to him and he takes them with a big smile. What he sees warms him.  
Dean’s made a really beautiful watercolor painting of Sammy and Bobby in the pool with the puppy and Dean wielding the watergun behind them. He even included the beer cooler Bobby put by the pool after the first night. It is actually a really good painting, Dean has a lot of talent, and Bobby is already mentally picking out a place to hang it up.

Sammy hands him his picture and Bobby has to cough to clear his throat from the immediate lump he gets in it. Sammy painted himself and Dean with the puppy, but also Bobby. He never thought Sammy would draw him - he thought it would be John, like he drew those first few weeks - but there it is. Sammy even attempted to draw Dean’s watergun too.

He hugs both boys to his chest and presses a kiss to each of their heads.

“Thank you very much, boys, I love them. Come back soon, okay? We’ll go camping again.”

He watches them run back to the car and John, Dean bouncing up to his Dad to pull his sleeve.

“Hey Dad, when can we come back? Uncle Bobby says he’ll take us camping in the woods again.”

John glances at Bobby.

“Camping in the woods, huh? Good training.”

Bobby rolls his eyes at his friend. Seriously, John can be so dim at times.

“Or just fun, ya idjit.”

John nods distractedly, ushering his sons in the car and slamming the doors shut. He waves one last time before getting in and driving the car away. Bobby waves far longer than necessary.

He wanders around the house for hours, clearing the table, washing the dishes, cleaning the sheets in the boys’ room. When he’s got nothing left to do, he grabs the puppy and plops down in the pool again. Fully clothed, puppy in his lap and a cold beer in his hand.

He hopes he’ll be using the pool for what it is intended again soon; preferably with the Winchester boys by his side.


End file.
